


More than Kin, Less than Kind

by Kara_Dreamer



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Body Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Might be aiming for a poly relationship down the line but I'm really not sure yet, Multi, Non-Binary Chara, Non-Binary Frisk, Other, Pacifist Frisk, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Post-Pacifist Route, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7231021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kara_Dreamer/pseuds/Kara_Dreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chara Dreemurr, recovering slowly from their rescue at the hands of Frisk a few years after the liberation of the Monsters from the Underground, struggles with guilt and the evil memories of the past as they face the prospect of reuniting with Asriel for the first time since their deaths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Too Much in the Sun

“I’m here to see Chara Dreemurr. Do you know if they are available?”

Frisk’s voice, subdued as it was, came clearly to Chara’s ears through the closed door as they lay on their bed in the Hillsboro Behavioral Health Retreat, their mind half-focused on a battered trade paperback of  _ WATCHMEN _ . Chara’s hearing had always been sensitive, painfully so when they were in a manic phase.

_ “Manic phase” _ . The term still seemed odd and incongruous to Chara, like so much of the jargon of this strange technocratic era into which they had been reborn. But it was curiously comforting now to have a dry, bookish label to apply to all those uncomfortable episodes from their past, all those times when Asriel would watch them anxiously, their eyes filled with worry, striving in vain to calm them, trying to hide the tears when Chara rebuffed him--

_ No, _ Chara commanded themself.  _ You are ruminating again. Stop.  _ They tried to remember the tricks they had been taught in therapy for halting these incursions from the darkness. Visualization, that was one of them. Replace the troubling images with peaceful ones, Chara had been instructed many times as they shifted about restlessly in an uncomfortable chair while one therapist or another soothed them with psychological bromides.  _ Rubbish,  _ Chara had said both to themself and even aloud, but afterward they had grudgingly to admit the method was of some value. Chara closed their eyes, slowed their breathing, and called forth the image of a peaceful garden in which they were resting. Asriel was with them, lying on the grass side by side, gripping Chara’s hand lightly in his paw, and the sunshine was warm on their closed eyelids…

“Chara?” A soft knock on the door and another voice broke into their reverie. It was one of the nurses, an elderly man named Barton whom Chara had found the least intolerable of all the staff at the Retreat, largely because he hadn’t ever mispronounced Chara's name more than once or tried to get them to “cheer up” with the sort of vapid small talk that humans loved to inflict on the unsmiling. “Your friend Frisk is here to see you. Are you indisposed?”

A cloud of guilt tinged with fear rose up to obscure Chara’s thoughts. For a second they struggled with the impulse to keep silent and still, pretending to be asleep, waiting for their visitor to take the hint and leave.  _ Don’t you  _ **_want_ ** _ to see Frisk? _ Chara’s mind demanded. They smothered the fear and guilt with a pillow until they stopped kicking, then raised their voice to answer. “I’m in, Barton,” they said. “Just lying down reading.”

The door opened to reveal the tall, bulky, white-coated figure of Barton and, standing in front of him, the slighter, shorter person of Frisk, their customary stripey rugby shirt clashing incongruously with a dark green skirt. Chara’s heart constricted painfully when they saw that one of Frisk’s dark eyes was still covered with a bandage and that they still were leaning on a cane. But Frisk’s brown face bore a wide smile and they lifted up the cane in a jaunty wave. “Hey there, Chara! You're looking well,” they said, in their soft, whispery voice.

Chara kept their comic book in front of them, red-brown eyes peering over the top of it. “Hello, Frisk,” they answered quietly. “You look…better.” It was true enough; on their last visit Frisk had still been leaning heavily on their cane like an arthritic grandmother.

“Will you be needing anything, Chara?” asked Barton.

“No, nothing, thank you,” Chara said. “Aside from some privacy.”

“Of course. I’ll leave you to your visit.” Barton shut the door behind Frisk as they stepped into Chara's room. The young ambassador grabbed the folding chair, turning it backwards and straddling it, grunting with only slight discomfort as they took their seat. They folded their arms over the back of the chair, resting their chin on their wrists, their solitary eye studying Chara intently.

Chara kept  _ WATCHMEN _ in front of them, pretending to be engrossed, flicking only the occasional sharp glance in their visitor's direction. “I'm surprised Undyne didn't give you one of her pirate patches,” they said.

“Oh, she offered,” Frisk replied with a grin. “But I told her I didn't want to steal her look. Anyway,” they continued, pointing to the bandage with one finger, “I’ve only got another week before this comes off. It wasn't  _ that _ bad.”

Chara dipped their head a little further behind the cover of their comic book. “I'm sorry I hurt your eye, Frisk,” they muttered. 

“Oh, Chara,” said Frisk, scooting the chair closer to the bed. “How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not mad about what you did to me. I'm the one who should feel bad for not going back for you sooner.” Frisk reached out a tentative hand toward Chara's shoulder. 

“Don't,” Chara said, squirming away from the proferred touch.

“Oh,” said Frisk. “After last week—I thought you’d—”

“Not today,” Chara shot back.

“Ah. Sorry.” Frisk's smile faded and they refolded their arms on the back of the chair. “Anyway, in a couple of weeks I’ll be as good as new.”

“Good. That's good.” Chara's heart sank when they saw that Frisk's expression had fallen, and they lowered  _ WATCHMEN  _ for a moment to treat Frisk to a tight-lipped smile. Immediately their face brightened again, alight with joy.

_ Of course,  _ Chara thought.  _ One strained little smile from me, Frisk, and it’s like I just gave you an early Christmas present. Why must you be so damnably... _ **_cute_ ** _?  _ Chara hid the human’s cute face behind their comic book again. “...and how is Asriel?” they finally got out.

“He’s...improving.” Frisk let out a little sigh, prompting Chara to peep over their book; Frisk’s smile was not entirely gone, but their eye was pensive. “Suddenly being able to feel again...it’s been more of a shock for him, you know. Mom’s probably been more help to him than any of the shrinks here. I don’t think human psychiatrists quite know what to do with a goat-monster, you know? But he’s getting calmer, bit by bit. Would you like to see him?”

For a moment Chara could almost see, in his mind's eye, Asriel there in the room, sitting where Frisk was.  _ Except he’d be so proper and polite, wouldn't he…sitting the right way round on the chair, bolt upright, with his paws folded on his lap…looking down at the ground, just as shy as when we first met, not sure what he should say…  _

_ What would  _ **_I_ ** _ say? _

Another wave of guilt broke over Chara. “Mmm,” they replied, affecting a casual tone. “Maybe it’d be best if he’s recovered a bit more first.”

Frisk leaned toward the bed. “You're not going to be able to put this off forever, Chara,” they said. “After all, you’re not here for much longer, are you?”

Chara kept up the pretense of reading. “Two more weeks, I think they said.” Behind the cover of their book they made a sour face. “My keepers seem to think I’m almost ready to be released into human society. I’m not sure what gave them that ridiculous idea. What have you been telling them, Frisk?”

“Only that we’ve all been missing you and counting the days until you’re back with your family.”

_ Not quite my family any more, is it?  _ thought Chara.  _ The Dad I knew is gone. The father  _ **_you_ ** _ know, your little skeleton friend—I’m supposed to call  _ **_him_ ** _ “Dad” now. If he’ll even let me...  _ “Well,” they said aloud, “considering that I’ll be seeing Asriel at home in a couple weeks anyway, he should just rest up instead of going to the trouble coming out here to see me. I’m doing fine here for now.”

Frisk’s face was now entirely serious. They lowered their voice. “Asriel’s not doing so fine, Chara,” they said. “He needs more than rest. He needs the right kind of help if he’s going to get better and he needs it  _ now _ . Not the sort of help than any of the therapists here can provide him, not the help than I can offer, not even the help that Mom can give. Asriel needs  _ you. _ Every day he asks when he’ll be able to see you.”

“What makes you think I can help him.” It was a statement, not a question. “History suggests I’m not the best influence.”

“Chara,” said Frisk gently. “You should have seen how much he brightened when I told him that I’d brought you back. Forget ‘history’. You’re already the best influence on him. Right now. Please, Chara. What are you afraid of?”

Chara threw down  _ WATCHMEN  _ and rolled onto their side, away from Frisk, wrapping their arms about their slender body.  _ What am I afraid of?  _ Their memory obliged with a swift answer. Hateful images flooded into their mind, overwhelming their feeble self-therapeutic defenses: images of Asriel’s face crumpling, Asriel’s paws rubbing away the unwanted tears, Asriel’s eyes no longer weeping because their only friend had once again browbeaten him into submission—

“Stop it,” Chara demanded of themself. They clutched their head in their hands. “ _ Stop it! _ ”

“Chara, I’m sorry!” Frisk pushed themself up from the chair. “What would you like me to stop?”

“ _ Not you! _ ” Chara ground out between clenched teeth. “Please...leave me alone.”

“Are you sure?” asked Frisk uncertainly. “There must be something I can—”

“There’s  _ nothing. _ ” Chara grabbed a pillow, holding it tight against their chest. “Stop trying to be so damn nice to me and  _ go. _ ”

“I—” said Frisk. Chara did not need to look at Frisk’s face to know what expression it wore. The stammer that they had almost succeeded in banishing from their speech was creeping back in. “I ju—just want to hel—help you, Chara.”

Chara silently cursed themself.  _ How much worse do you plan on making this, idiot? _ “I know you’re trying to do the right thing, Frisk.” Chara said aloud, trying to keep their voice level. “You’re  _ always _ trying...trying so damned hard.”

“So are you,” replied Frisk in a whisper.

Chara snorted derisively. “Are these the words of a properly socialized human doing the right thing?” they retorted. “Do I  _ sound _ like I’m trying?”

“Yes, you do,” Frisk said, still whispering, but their voice slowly gained in volume as they went on. “Because after weeks of being prodded by doctors and doped up with antipsychotics and lectured by psychotherapists, as angry and impatient as you’ve been...you could’ve run away from here any time, but you haven’t. You’ve yelled at me, you’ve told me it’s all bullshit...and you’re still here.” Frisk paused for a deep breath, and when they resumed speaking it was in a louder voice, tinged with hidden amusement. “Tell you something else, too, Chara. As nasty as you’ve acted sometimes, you haven’t  _ once _ tried again to punch my lights out. Like it or not, you’re becoming a softie.”

At those last words Chara whipped their head round to stare at Frisk. To Chara’s surprise, their visitor was smiling again, and before they could stop themself Chara let out a giggle. Frisk’s smile widened, their eye sparkling with delight, joining in the laughter.

“Dammit, Frisk…” said Chara, still giggling, “here I am trying to tell you to get lost, and instead you’ve got us both laughing over the fact that I almost took one of your eyes out.” Their laughter subsided and they gazed at the grinning face of their rescuer. “Why must you be such a lovable weirdo?”

“I’ve had nothing but lovable weirdos for friends ever since I looked a goat-woman in the eyes and called her ‘Mom’. I guess it’s rubbed off.” 

“I’m glad. You’d be positively insufferable otherwise.” Chara paused irresolutely for some moments, then swung themself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, facing Frisk. Their ruddy cheeks flushed a slightly deeper red as they opened their arms, inviting a hug. “Uh. You can, um, touch me now if you like.”

Frisk beamed and with a happy sound they threw themself off the chair and into Chara’s arms, nestling their head against their friend’s shoulder. “I can’t wait till you’re home, Chara,” they whispered. “Do you know, I’ve actually missed the days when you lived in my head?”

“Sheesh, Frisk, you  _ are _ a weirdo,” Chara replied, gathering Frisk’s diminutive body in a warm, snuggling embrace. “Next you’ll tell me you’ve got a body pillow of me that you rub up against at night.”

“Naw!” Frisk shot back, with a bark of laughter. “Though I’ve thought of commissioning one for Asriel. He’s…” Frisk’s voice sank, and they petted Chara’s back gently. “He’s really been lonely without you, Chara. I’ve hated to keep telling him again and again you’re not well enough for a visit. Don’t you miss him too?”

Chara’s head slumped against Frisk’s neck. “Like you wouldn’t believe, Frisk.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Chara sighed. “How do I explain it? As long as I’m here, alone...I can still remember Asriel the way he used to be. An adorable, sweet little goatboy with a big smile and a delightful laugh, someone warm and open...someone who was as different from me as you can possibly envision.” Chara indulged a bitter laugh. “Now he’s a sad, wounded adolescent. I turned him into  _ myself _ . You think I’m in a hurry to face up to that?”

“Asriel is hurting, but he still smiles, Chara,” replied Frisk, their voice a gentle whisper in Chara’s ear. “He still laughs. Maybe not like he used to, but you know...I have a feeling that, when you’re with him again, that’ll change.”

Chara said nothing. They lingered in Frisk’s embrace for a time, breathing softly, accepting their friend’s affectionate touches without stirring or speaking. Eventually, however, they withdrew from the hug and met Frisk’s gaze. “Okay, Frisk, you interfering busybody, you win again. Tell Asriel he’s welcome to visit me. But you’ll have to give me a little time to psyche myself up.”

Frisk’s face lit up. “Really? Oh, Chara, thank you!” Once again they wrapped Chara up in a close embrace. “You don’t know how happy this makes me.”

“I think I can guess!” said Chara, a little breathless from the strength of Frisk’s sudden hug.

“Oh, sorry.” Frisk let Chara go again. “When can I tell Asriel you’re ready to see him?”

Chara shrugged, once again trying to assume a breezy manner. “I’m not going anywhere and I haven’t anything to do. Tell Azzy he can come this afternoon, if he wants. But I’ll want a few hours’ notice.”

“Done,” said Frisk. They sprang to their feet, flexing their gangly limbs. “I don’t know about you, Chara, but all this heavy heart-to-heart stuff has made me hungry. Want to grab a bite from the cafeteria with me?”

Chara snorted. “Don’t tell me you actually like the food here!”

Frisk smiled. “It’s not snail pie but I’m not fussy.”

Chara frowned. “And I’d have to sit with humans and pretend to be nice to them.”

“It’ll be good practice,” reminded Frisk. “After all, isn’t that one of the reasons you’re here, to learn how to fake it? Anyway  _ I’m _ human and you’re nice to me. Sometimes.”

“You’re human?” Chara scoffed. “When you run home every day to hug goatmom and skeledad? Nah, you’re just a monster with the wrong-shaped body.”

“I  _ like _ the shape of my body!” Frisk punctuated their declaration with a balletic pose.

Chara scowled. “Wish I could say the same.”

“Aw, Chara...I’m sorry I touched that nerve.”

“It’s okay.” Chara got to their feet. “Fine, I’ll go to the lunchroom with you. After that though I’m gonna want some private time again.  _ And _ when you next visit, bring some better reading material than they’ve got here. Something bloody and horrific.” They snatched up  _ WATCHMEN  _ from the bed. “I’m surprised they even had this.”

“It’s a deal.” Frisk playfully grabbed Chara by the hand. “Okay, let’s go!”

“Come off it, Frisk!” Chara exclaimed, tugging a little on Frisk’s arm. “I’m your friend, not your prom date.” But Chara didn’t trouble to disengage themself from Frisk’s clasped hand, and side by side they left the room in search of food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first writing in a good while. My apologies. And it's not even on one of my unfinished stories!
> 
> I've been wanting for a good while now to write stories about Chara and Asriel, for they are two of the most fascinating characters in Undertale. I couldn't work out a good way to save them, though, so in the end I decided just to assume that salvation has already happened.
> 
> The time is vaguely a "few years" after the events of the other stories I've been writing. Frisk is now about sixteen and I'm assuming that Chara and Asriel are roughly that age as well.


	2. Their Nighted Colour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara's cheeks burned with embarrassment and shame. “Don't say that word,” they muttered. 
> 
> “What, the l-word? I shouldn't say lllurv?”
> 
> “I'm not kidding!” Chara barked out. A couple of nearby heads turned in their direction but they turned back when Chara glowered at them with reddish eyes ablaze. “It's…you shouldn't…” Chara was shaking now with the effort of keeping their voice in control. “Just because you love someone, even if you love them more than you’ve ever loved anyone…it doesn't stop you from hurting them. From wanting to hurt them.”
> 
> “Chara,” Frisk said, “I honestly don’t think Asriel has any thoughts about wanting to hurt you.”
> 
> “I don’t mean Asriel,” Chara hissed.

The Hillsboro Retreat canteen was a dreary place, despite the institution’s attempts to spruce it up with potted plants and colorful artwork on the walls. The walls were grey, the floor was grey, the tables were grey, the seats were grey, and most of the staff working there were grey as well. At all daytime hours there wafted from the kitchen a composite miasma of boiled vegetables and burnt fryer oil and cleaning compounds. Chara took their two scoops of chicken something-or-other and their plastic tumbler of iced tea without exchanging a glance with any of the cafeteria staff or speaking any words beyond a muttered “thanks”, and marched to the furthest corner of the dining area to find a seat. Frisk followed Chara, promenading across the dining room bearing a tray piled high with sweets and a carton of chocolate milk in one hand, flourishing their cane in the other as though they were a Victorian gentleman out for a postprandial stroll. It was well past noon but there were still a few other patients eating their lunches, some huddled in their seats alone, some accompanied with family and friends. Frisk’s ostentatious passage drew some quizzical looks, all of which Frisk greeted with a sunny smile. Chara sat in their corner, prodding their bland chicken bits with a plastic fork and watching Frisk as they approached them and took the chair opposite.

“How can you  _ do _ that?” Chara asked as Frisk settled into their seat and began nibbling on an apple fritter.

“Eat all this?” Frisk nodded downward at the heap of pastries. “I guess I’m just blessed with that sort of metabolism. I never gain a lick of weight.”

“No, not the desserts! I mean…” Chara lowered their voice, not wanting to attract any more attention. “I just don’t understand how you can handle being stared at so well. Whenever any other humans stare at me I want to stuff a napkin down their throats.”

“Does your therapist know about this violent impulse?”

“Yeah. I tell him I want to stuff a napkin down  _ his _ throat all the time. These days it just makes him smile. He doesn’t think I really mean it, the idealistic hippie.”

“Pfft, I could’ve told him that.”

“I do too mean it! Well, sort of.” Chara sighed and sank a little lower in their chair. “If I could only figure out a way to stuff a napkin down a human’s throat without actually hurting them, then I’d be set.”

“That’s sort of what I’ve ended up doing,” said Frisk, finishing their apple fritter and washing the last bite down with a swig of chocolate milk. “Chara...after twelve years of getting shoved into dingy bedrooms and locked bathrooms and walk-in closets to hide from the world what a weirdo I was, suddenly I was pushed into the light for the whole world to see.” Frisk giggled before starting in on a cheese Danish. “Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr, official diplomatic representative of the Kingdom of the Monsters! Or rather a short, weedy, androgynous tween with shaggy hair and a horrible stutter and a six-foot-tall goat creature for a mother. I  _ had _ to learn how to take getting stared at.” Frisk shook their head a little, their face clouded with some troubling memory. “The only way that worked was to stare right back at them. To own my weirdness, and learn to revel in it. To stuff  _ that _ down their throats, and smile as I did it.”

Chara smirked at Frisk's last sentence. “See, when you put it  _ that _ way, it does sound a bit more my style.” The smirk faded. “Still, hiding in a bedroom or a closet seems real damn appealing to me right now.”

“You can, if you want. Once you’re out of this place, you’ve got no obligations to anybody outside of your family. Nobody on the outside even knows who you are aside from Mom and Fluffybuns and a handful of other old monsters. If you really want to do nothing for the rest of your life but find a place to hide from the world and never have to deal with another human again, even  _ me _ …” Frisk rested their hand gently atop Chara’s. “None of us will blame you, not after everything you’ve endured. As far as I’m concerned, as far as Mom is concerned...you’ve earned as much retirement as you want to take.  _ But. _ ” Frisk withdrew their hand and fixed Chara with a determined glare. “You do have one duty that you can’t hide from and that’s your duty to Asriel.”

“Asriel.” Chara pushed their half-finished lunch away from them, grimacing at it. Longing to grasp their old companion by the paw again and to gaze into his smiling face assailed Chara, and without thinking his fingers felt for the locket that was not there.  _ But it won't be the same face any more, will it? _ Chara reminded themself. Frisk had already warned them that Asriel would look older, and that the drug regimen they had been prescribed had flattened their mood and altered their behavior. Chara shivered at the thought of a spent, dead-eyed shell of an Asriel appearing before them. “Frisk…will Azzy be…you tell me that he’ll be happy to see me but…what if it doesn't happen, what if he's never happy again—“

“Chara. Calm yourself. Shh…” Frisk touched Chara's hand again, this time stroking the back of it gently, tracing their fingertips along the valleys between Chara's knuckles. It was a gesture that Frisk had learned from Asriel, who had found in the old days that it would help soothe his agitated foster-sibling when they were in a mood. It was a little strange to Chara, even uncanny, to receive from their new human friend this echo of Asriel's affection, and the first time Frisk had asked them permission to touch them in that manner Chara’s immediate reaction was to recoil. But soon they had reconciled themself to the gesture. It was too pleasant to reject.

“Chara,” Frisk said again. “Look…I can't promise any miracles. At least you had all those months in my head to acclimate you a bit. For Asriel though…it was all at once. For the first few days after I brought him back he was…” Frisk shook his head. Their fingers continued their gentle ministrations to Chara's hand. “I'm not gonna go there right now. Point is, Chara…it's been a struggle for Asriel, wrestling with the demons in his head. Maybe he’ll be struggling the rest of his life. I can't promise you that, even with your help, it’ll ever end.”

Chara closed their eyes, trembling with suppressed emotion. “Does he resent me now? Is that it? I know I would.”

“Don't say that! Chara, in the months I’ve spent with Asriel I’ve never heard him say one word of blame about you. Ever. Chara,  _ please _ .” Frisk stopped caressing Chara's hand, instead grasping it firmly. “Stop trying to talk yourself out of this. Damn it, Chara, Asriel  _ loves _ you.”

Chara's cheeks burned with embarrassment and shame. “Don't say that word,” they muttered. 

“What, the l-word? I shouldn't say  _ lllurv? _ ”

“I'm not kidding!” Chara barked out. A couple of nearby heads turned in their direction but they turned back when Chara glowered at them with reddish eyes ablaze. “It's…you shouldn't…” Chara was shaking now with the effort of keeping their voice in control. “Just because you  _ love _ someone, even if you love them more than you’ve ever loved anyone…it doesn't stop you from hurting them. From  _ wanting _ to hurt them.”

“Chara,” Frisk said, “I honestly don’t think Asriel has any thoughts about wanting to hurt you.”

_ “I don’t mean Asriel,” _ Chara hissed.

Frisk gave Chara’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I guess you don’t. Look, um...I’m done eating. Do you want to finish your chicken?”

Chara poked disgustedly at the sludgy, cooling remains of their meal. “No, I’ve lost what little appetite I had.”

Frisk let go Chara’s hand and stood, gathering up their lunchroom trays and glancing about them. “I’ll take you back to your room then. I hope you’ll forgive me for bringing up—”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Chara muttered.

“All the same.” Frisk gave Chara what they hoped was a comforting smile. “Shall we retire to your quarters?”

Chara rose from their seat and permitted Frisk to lead them out of the cafeteria, convulsively grasping Frisk’s hand and keeping their eyes fixed on the linoleum floor.

* * *

The moment the door to their room closed behind them Chara let go Frisk’s hand and flung their arms around Frisk’s body, burying their face in Frisk’s shirt. Frisk returned the embrace, hands tentatively patting Chara’s back.

“Chara, everything is going to be okay—”

“ _ How can you say that! _ ” Chara screwed their eyes shut and gritted their teeth but they could not prevent the hot, shameful tears from welling up in their eyes. “I’m  _ afraid _ , Frisk. I’m so afraid!”

Frisk’s whisper was soft in Chara’s ear. “What frightens you, Chara?”

“Trying to do the right thing! I’ve never done this without you. I’m afraid I  _ can’t _ do this without you!” Chara cried into Frisk’s shoulder. “I miss your soul, Frisk, your stupidly kind and patient soul that’s never guided you wrong. Can you imagine how that felt to me, being able to share in that? I don’t trust my own soul. My soul sucks.”

“You can’t say that! You’ve only had it a month.”

“The first thing I did with it is break your leg and almost break your face.”

“Will you stop dwelling on that? You were confused, frightened. Your first emotion was anger that I’d abandoned you. And...I sort of deserved it.” Frisk rubbed Chara’s back, slumping their head against Chara’s shoulder. “I should’ve gone back to look for you years ago, Chara. I’d had no idea...I’m really, really sorry.”

“Hey, cut that out. Whose pity party is this?” Chara managed a cracked laugh, then sank back into gloom. “I’m going to hurt Azzy again, Frisk. I just know I will. You make him sound so fragile now, and I’ve only just learned how to make a few minutes of polite conversation without baring my teeth and going for the nearest leg.”

“I’ll be there when Asriel comes to visit. If you feel the sudden urge to chew on someone’s ankle you can always have a go at mine. I won’t complain too much.” Frisk chuckled, then grew serious. “Chara, if you’re having serious second thoughts about whether you’re ready to see Asriel today, please don’t feel bad about it. Maybe I’ve been leaning on you too hard about this. I tell him you’re still indisposed and need more time to recover.”

“No. Don’t do that.” Chara pulled away from the hug so they could look Frisk in the face. “Go home and tell him I’m ready. I can do this. Somehow. I want to see Azzy so bad...I’ll take my chances.”

“You’re absolutely sure about this, Chara?”

Chara paused for a second, biting their lower lip, then nodded, defiance in their eyes. “Yeah. Go tell the big dork I’m all better now and ready to see him.” They glanced at the clock. “Let’s say, four o’clock. Give me a call first so I know you’re on your way.”

Frisk smiled and gave Chara another quick hug. “I’m glad to hear it. Asriel will be thrilled, I promise you.”

Chara responded with the ghost of a smile in return. “You’ll be here too?” They touched Frisk’s arm. “Please?”

“Of course, Chara! You don’t even have to ask. Do you want Mom to accompany us as well?”

Chara glanced at the clock again. “She must be busy, surely? It’s a school day.”

“Mom can make up some excuse for the sake of her family, I’m sure. She’ll come running for you, any hour of the day, you know that.”

“Yeah. I know.” Chara’s eyes dimmed momentarily with nostalgia. “I’d feel bad about messing up her work. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, Chara. Just Asriel and me then, four o’clock.”

Chara drew a steadying breath, rubbing nervous hands through their hair. “Then beat it. I need some time to myself now. And don’t forget to call first, just in case I decided to have a meltdown between now and four.”

“I won’t forget.” Frisk gave Chara’s hand one last comforting stroke of their fingers. “Take care, huh? You’ll do fine.”

“Yeah, sure. Now scram, Frisk.”

Frisk sauntered to the door and turned just before exiting. “I love you too, Chara.”

“Would you just get out of here already?” Chara tossed a pillow at Frisk’s head.

“Of course.” With a final saccharine grin and a wave of their cane, their savior was gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that got a bit more angsty than I was planning on. Chara really sort of hates themself; as I know from personal experience, it's a very difficult habit to break even after years of loving care.


	3. A Truant Disposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Chara, don’t you believe me when I tell you that Mom and Dad are nice? You don’t need to be afraid any more.” Asriel touched Chara’s cheek. “There’s nothing to be scared of. I promise you. You’ll see. As long as you’re my best friend, you’ll never need to be afraid of anything again, ever.”
> 
> “You promise to protect me, Azzy? You woolly little crybaby?” Chara touched Asriel’s cheek in return, pretending to wipe away a tear.
> 
> Asriel pouted. “There’s nothing wrong with crying, Mom and Dad both tell me so.”

When the door closed behind Frisk, Chara threw themselves onto their bed, rolling onto their back and staring up for a while at the acoustic ceiling. Snatches of the conversation they had just made with Frisk replayed in their head, competing for their mind’s attention with all the hopes and the fears that the name “Asriel” never failed to conjure up.  _ I’m going to see Asriel again, _ Chara told themself, trying to make their inner voice sound as hopeful as possible.  _ After all the endless years of hateful semi-existence. Finally I’ll be with Asriel again.  _ They tried to picture Asriel at his happiest, wearing that wide goofy smile that showed his fangs and whose cheerful glow always felt as though it could brighten a whole room. But Chara’s treacherous imagination insisted on obtruding other pictures of less cheerful Asriels: a weeping Asriel, an angry and vengeful Asriel, an imitation Asriel clad in the vile form of that loathsome animated flower that looked into Frisk’s eyes, saw Chara hiding behind them and  _ mocked— _

Chara pounded the mattress beside them with a clenched fist and sat upright.  _ Hey, brain! You’re being more of a jerkass than usual, _ Chara scolded.  _ I don’t  _ **_have_ ** _ to put up with this shit, you know. I’ve got a job to do. _ Fears or no fears Asriel was visiting soon and it was Chara’s duty, now that they had space and an interval of time to themselves, to take whatever steps were needed to greet him in the best frame of mind they could muster.

The first step they’d learned was straightforward enough. Chara opened the nightstand drawer and selected from their collection of pill bottles the one labeled “PROPRANOLOL”. They tipped at first one of the pink tablets into their palm, then two, and popped the pills into their mouth, not bothering with the formality of water, chewing the pills impatiently and swallowing the bitter fragments. The ritual itself was enough to calm Chara a little.

The next step was trickier. “Visualization”, that was the grandiose word Chara’s therapist kept using. They needed to hold in their mind a comforting image or memory that was strong enough to win out over all the bad images and memories with which their brain kept trying to disturb their composure.  _ If only I could put good thoughts into a  _ **_real_ ** _ war against the bad,  _ Chara said to themself with a little smirk. There came into Chara’s mind a vision of an army of human warriors, each warrior the embodiment of one of their evil imaginations and recollections. The enemy soldiers looked so frightening massed together like that, all the pale-faced, black-clad, sneering humans with cruel smiles and harsh laughter on their lips. But then Chara’s good imagination strode into the fray, wearing the form of his father the King, his gold armor shining in the sunlight as he scythed down the enemy thoughts with one mighty sweep of his trident. Chara’s smirk became a genuine smile.  _ Probably not a visualization that either Dr. Mitsunobu or Frisk would entirely approve of,  _ they thought,  _ but it works for me. _

Rewarding themself with pleasant sensations and experiences was also important, Chara had been taught. “If you’re feeling miserable, don’t punish yourself by sitting there and wallowing in it!” their therapist had instructed. “Get up, change your scenery, do something you enjoy.” Hence Chara went to their quarters’ minuscule bathroom, closing the door and leaving the light off. In the dark they stripped off their clothes. Meditatively they ran their hands down their bare body from their chest to their legs.  _ If only Frisk could’ve figured out how to restore me to a different body, _ Chara reflected.  _ Instead of this...flat-chested thing I got stuck with. _ But dwelling on that old resentment didn’t count as doing something Chara enjoyed, so they pushed the thought aside with practiced facility and stepped into the shower stall.

The first streams of water that struck Chara were cold, setting their body to shivering, but they did not mind. It was like the momentary shock of stepping through the curtain of a waterfall to find the cavern hidden behind it. Soon the shower warmed to a pleasant temperature and Chara closed their eyes, standing motionless under the spray and feeling the drops and rivulets of water cascading over their skin. In their mind’s eye the room was not dark, but suffused with the ghostly blue phosphorescence of Waterfall. Below them and beside them the luminous flowers and mushrooms shone faintly in the humid air, and above them glittered the unchanging crystalline stars.

How long it had been since Chara had first seen that underground sky! They leaned against the wall of the tiny shower stall, letting their mind wander as they relaxed under the warm rainfall. It hadn’t been many months after they had fallen, Chara recalled. The King and Queen were both away from New Home on some tedious official errand involving the Royal Guard, having left their children to their own devices after extracting from Asriel a solemn promise to stay safe in the royal residence and keep a protective eye on his foster-sibling. Asriel had honored his promise for almost an hour…

* * *

“Come  _ on _ , Chara! Get your shoes on! I’m gonna show you the neatest thing!” Asriel bounced up and down with excitement as he rooted in his closet for a clean shirt, while Chara watched from behind him, squeezing their arms anxiously round themself and occasionally shooting a nervous glance at the open bedroom door. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Azzy?” Chara asked, their tone uncertain. “You promised Mom you’d keep me here safe.”

“You’ll be  _ plenty  _ safe! Mom and Dad fret too much. I’ve been outside of New Home lots of times. There's nothing out there that's gonna hurt us. It’ll be  _ fun! _ ” Asriel shucked off his yellow shirt with a green stripe and pulled on the garment he had selected from the closet, a green shirt with a yellow stripe; then he turned to Chara, who was still standing diffidently in the middle of the room. “C’mon, get ready!”

Chara didn't move. “What if they find out?” they said, a tinge of fear in their voice. “They’ll be mad. They’ll punish us.”

“Chara!” Asriel came close, taking the human’s hands in his paws and squeezing them gently. “I dunno how they do things on the Surface but you're with  _ us _ now. You know what’ll happen if Dad and Mom find out that we played hookie?” Asriel dropped Chara's hands so he could strike a pose like the King’s, paws clasped in front of him and head solemnly bowed. “You’ve disappointed your mother,” intoned Asriel, who strove to modulate his piping voice into a rough approximation of Asgore’s  _ basso profondo.  _ “Tori must insist on disciplining you. I'm sorry, son.” Then Asriel raised his head, narrowed his eyes and set his face in an adorable try at a scowl. In spite of themself Chara giggled. “My child!” declared Asriel, his voice now struggling to imitate the Queen’s resonant contralto. “You  _ promised _ your father and I that you would watch over your brother! If you cannot handle this modest responsibility then I have no choice but to ground you.” Asriel ceased scowling, let his paws fall to his side, and sighed. “As if I don't already spend  _ all  _ my time cooped up in this place. But trust me, Chara…” Asriel once again gave Chara’s hands a comforting squeeze. “They’ll be easy on me and they won't do a  _ thing _ to you. We’ll be  _ fine. _ Besides, if I hadn’t snuck out of the house when I wasn’t supposed to all those months ago, I wouldn’t have found  _ you. _ And that would have  _ sucked. _ ” Asriel booped Chara’s nose with his snout.

Chara giggled again and gave Asriel a little smile. “Well. Okay.” They disengaged themself from Asriel’s grasp and went to their closet to look for shoes. Chara still kept the frayed, leaky pair of decrepit sneakers they had been wearing when they had stumbled their way up the slopes of Mount Ebott but in the months since they fell Toriel had commissioned two new pairs from an artisan in Snowdin. The cobbler hadn’t quite got the hang of shaping a shoe to match a human foot and the resulting sneakers weren’t overly comfortable but they were the first new shoes that Chara had ever been given and they cherished them. They selected the older of the pairs and pulled them on. “So where are you dragging me, Azzy?”

“Waterfall!” cried Asriel as he grabbed Chara’s hand and tugged them toward the front door.

“Wait, isn’t that the place that’s just dark and wet all the time?”

“Gosh, Chara, you’ve haven’t seen  _ any _ of the  _ cool _ places in Waterfall yet!” Asriel led Chara out of the royal home and down the walkway that led toward the elevator to Hotland. The crenellated rooftops of New Home stretched out on both sides of them under the soft, featureless mage-light that shone throughout the Underground. Not far from the elevator Asriel took a side path into an apparent dead end. An alcove was tucked away there, recessed a few feet into the stone wall. Inset into the masonry at the rear of the alcove were carven blocks forming the Delta Rune. Asriel turned to Chara, leaning in close to address them in a conspiratorial whisper. “You haven’t seen  _ this _ yet, either. Watch.” Asriel pressed the three triangles in the Rune in the order left, right, middle, then pressed the winged orb in its center. There came a whirring and then a loud  _ thunk _ as of a heavy latch being worked; then a black gap opened up around the edges of a rectangular section of the stonework of the alcove’s right-hand wall. Asriel pushed and the concealed door swung inwards into a dark passageway beyond.

“What the hell…” breathed Chara. “What  _ is _ this?”

Asriel clapped his paws together, beaming as though he’d just performed a successful trick of stage magic. “Isn’t it  _ great? _ Dad told me about it a while back, though I don’t think he was supposed to. I was asking him how they used to get up and down from Hotland to New Home and back before the CORE was built and they could run an elevator. Turns out  _ this _ is how! A hidden stairway! We should get inside quick.” He yanked Chara into the dark stairwell and shut the stone door. Utter blackness enveloped them for a fraction of a second and Chara felt a sudden wave of unreasoning fear but in the next moment they were standing within a broad circle of ruddy light. Asriel held their left paw aloft, cradling in their palm a small sphere of orange flame. “ _ There _ we go!” He grasped Chara’s hand firmly in his free paw and grinned at them, the firelight glinting off the points of the monster’s incisors. “Ready, Chara?”

Fears and memories of parental retribution once again swirled up in Chara’s mind but there was a another feeling coming to the fore, a strange feeling that quickened Chara’s pulse and kindled excitement in their heart, the excitement of doing something in secret. They squeezed their foster-brother’s paw in response. “Yeah. Let’s go!”

The first stage of their forbidding adventure was, however, rather dull. The minutes wore away as Asriel and Chara descended the endless stair. There was nothing to see but grey masonry glowing dimly red in Asriel’s magical light, and nothing to hear but the steady shuffling sound of Chara’s shoes on the stone steps echoing through the stairwell, easily drowning out the scarcely audible patter of Asriel’s soft paw-pads. After what seemed like hours, though, the children reached the bottom. Asriel lifted up one of his floppy ears so he could press the side of his head to the stonework, listening for any sounds coming from without. “Can’t hear anything,” whispered Asriel. “I think we can get out safely without scaring the crap out of anyone outside.” He wrapped both paws around a stout iron chain hanging down from a bracket set into the stone and, with only a gentle pull, the stone door swung inward on practically noiseless hinges. A gust of torrid air struck Asriel and Chara in their faces as the door opened: the sweltering atmosphere of Hotland greeted them as they emerged from the hidden stairwell and shut the door, which disappeared into the wall of the cavern as though it had never existed.

Chara looked around them, trying to orient themselves, but they saw nothing immediately familiar. A short distance away a large, rectangular, greyish-pink structure loomed up. A large sign over the single visible doorway bore the word “LAB”.

“That’s the old Royal Laboratory,” said Asriel, noticing where Chara was directing their attention. “It’s locked up tight. There used to be a Royal Scientist who worked there but not any more.”

“Really? What happened?”

Asriel frowned. “Nobody’s told me. Nobody seems to know. Mom and Dad can’t even tell me who the last Royal Scientist’s name was. It’s weird. Anyway…” Asriel pointed in the opposite direction from the Royal Laboratory. Through the hazy air Chara could just make out what looked like a wooden bridge over a chasm from whose remote depths shone a fiery glow of molten rock. “Just a little ways further and we’ll be in Waterfall.”

They crossed the lengthy bridge over the glowing pit and entered a long passage illuminated only with a fluorescent sign with scrolling red letters that read, “WELCOME TO HOTLAND”. After a while the passageway opened out into dim caverns full of the sound of dripping water, with great stalactites projecting downward from the cavern roofs and stalagmites jutting everywhere from the cavern floors except where the footpath through them was maintained. Chara started and looked upward when they felt the splash of a water drop on their face, then another. Neither the water nor the air was very cold; nevertheless Chara shivered.

“So, uh, Azzy, are any of those ‘cool places’ coming up soon?” they said, their manner a bit cross. “I’ve seen the inside of caves before…”

“Soon, soon!” said Asriel, continuing down the path. “Trust me, Chara, it’ll be worth it.”

“Right.” Chara hastened to follow. The humidity increased, and phosphorescent mushrooms in a variety of shapes and hues began to appear here and there near the path. Chara had to admit that they hadn’t seen glowing blue and green toadstools ever before and they almost wanted to tell Asriel to stop so they could have a closer look at them, but their mind was increasingly preoccupied with the water dripping down from above. At first they felt only the occasional drop landing on them, but the drops grew rapidly more frequent and soon Chara could feel water dripping from the ends of their hair and trickling down the back of their neck. Panic began to rise within them as the dampness began to seep into their clothes. Yet Asriel continued his hike, leading Chara with him by the hand, seemingly oblivious to the ever-increasing precipitation that was threatening to drench them both.  _ Did he know it was going to be this wet? _ Chara asked themself with rising impatience.  _ If he did why didn’t the little idiot tell me? At least he could’ve warned me I’d need a coat! _

Chara’s foot landed in an unexpected puddle, splashing water onto their sock and their pants leg. Water was falling all around them and upon them now, soaking into their shirt, dripping into their eyes, filling the cavern with the quiet but relentless pattering sound of a steady rain. Something in Chara snapped. They pulled their hand abruptly from the gentle grip of Asriel’s paw and turned round, stomping down the pathway in the direction they had come. Asriel gave out a surprised bleat and turned round to see what had happened.

“Chara?!” he exclaimed. Chara did not look back or respond but kept walking. They heard Asriel scrambling after them. “Chara! Where are you going? What’s wrong?” Still Chara did not say anything. “Chara, please!” Asriel’s voice was growing shaky, and desperation began to creep into it. “What’d I do wrong? I did something wrong didn’t I? Please, Chara, say something to me!” Asriel’s voice cracked. Chara still did not turn around but their steps slowed, allowing Asriel to catch up and seize one of Chara’s hands in both their paws. “I’m sorry, Chara, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Asriel wept. “Don’t hate me, Chara, at least tell me what I did to make you hate me…”

Chara whipped round to face Asriel, an angry speech about being a troublemaker on their lips, but their words died when they saw Asriel sunk to his knees on the damp floor, face crumpled with pain and loss, tears streaming freely from eyes brimming over with grief.  _ Serves him right, _ one of Chara’s thoughts began to sneer, but Chara’s mind leaped on the thought before it could get any further and pummeled it into unconsciousness. They kneeled to face Asriel, heedless of the wet ground beneath their knees, and threw their arms around him.

“Hell’s bells, Asriel, stop saying I  _ hate _ you,” Chara said as they hugged the tearful monster to their chest. “And stop crying. I’m not mad ‘cause of you really. It’s something that…” Chara sighed. “You couldn’t have known. ‘Cause I’ve never told you.”

“Told me what, Chara?” asked Asriel, arms clutched around their foster-sibling. They were still crying but their voice was regaining its steadiness. 

Chara sighed again, at greater length. “You know I’ve never liked talking about my...um…”  _ I am  _ **_not_ ** _ calling them “my parents”, _ Chara commanded themself. “About the humans who raised me. Ever since Mom and Dad took me in I’ve tried to make believe those other people never existed.”

Asriel nodded. “Yeah, I remember how mad you got that one time I asked you about whether you had a mom and a dad on the Surface.” He shuddered.

“I did. Sort of. They…” Chara’s own voice quavered. “They didn’t...they were mad at me. A lot. Sometimes I didn’t even know why. But one day—” Chara’s eyes stung with unwept tears. “I got caught in a rainstorm when I was walking home from gathering herbs for them. My clothes got soaked and splashed with mud. My...guardians were not happy with me. They accused me of playing in the rain and ruining my clothes on purpose. Then they—they—” Chara could say no more. They buried their face in Asriel’s shirt to muffle their sobs.

“Oh, Chara, I’m so sorry…” Asriel said in a small voice. They curled up on the damp floor of the cavern for a time under the warm subterranean rainfall, each seeking comfort in the other’s embrace, until the tears ceased to flow and the grief eased.

“I’m sorry,” repeated Asriel when next he spoke. “I’m sorry for reminding you of something horrible like that.”

“You didn’t know. You didn’t do anything wrong,” said Chara. Then they looked down at themselves and their clothes, now thoroughly sodden from the rain and from sitting on the ground. They winced. “Mom and Dad are gonna kill us,” they said.

“No they aren’t!” Asriel declared. “I’ve gotten wet and dirty before. I really  _ did _ play in mud once. Sure they got a bit sore with me and Mom made me do chores but they didn’t yell or do anything nasty. Chara, don’t you believe me when I tell you that Mom and Dad are  _ nice? _ You don’t need to be afraid any more.” Asriel touched Chara’s cheek. “There’s nothing to be scared of. I  _ promise  _ you. You’ll see. As long as you’re my best friend, you’ll never need to be afraid of anything again, ever.”

“ _ You _ promise to protect me, Azzy? You woolly little crybaby?” Chara touched Asriel’s cheek in return, pretending to wipe away a tear.

Asriel pouted. “There’s  _ nothing  _ wrong with crying, Mom and Dad both tell me so.”

“Aw, Azzy, I’m just kidding with you.” Chara got to their feet, offering their hands to help Asriel regain their footing. “Well, now that we’re both drenched I guess we might as well keep going. These cool things you wanna show me had better be  _ really _ cool.”

“Well. Um.” Asriel was suddenly quite diffident, shifting their weight back and forth from one foot to the other and looking down at the ground. “There’s one cool thing I can show you right now. Or at least I hope you think it’s cool. I was gonna wait till we got to the star crystals to get this out, but…” Asriel giggled nervously. “Maybe it’d help you feel better if I gave it to you right now.” Asriel dug in his pants pocket for a few seconds and dug out something that jingled faintly when they retrieved it. Cupping the item in the palm of one paw Asriel held it out towards his sibling. The metal of it glinted dimly in the pale light of the phosphorescent fungi around them. Chara stared at it, then raised their head to stare into Asriel’s eyes.

“Azzy…” Chara whispered. “You got this for me?”

“Y-yeah,” answered Asriel shyly. “Maybe you think it’s kind of a dorky gift, getting you jewelry, but…”

“It  _ is  _ dorky,” said Chara with a brief touch of sardonic amusement. “But I don’t care. It’s beautiful.” They carefully picked up the heart-shaped pendant from Asriel’s paw, letting it dangle from its chain before their eyes. Even in the cavern’s feeble luminosity the silver pendant gleamed, smooth and lustrous.

“It’s not just a heart,” said Asriel. “It’s a locket, it opens up. Here, let me give you some more light so you can see it better.” Asriel summoned another flame in his paw and brought it close for Chara’s benefit. “Open it up and see!”

Chara cradled the pendant in their palm and flicked it open. Inside the two halves of the locket were two tiny portraits executed in enamel. The left-hand picture showed Asriel with big shining eyes and an absurdly enthusiastic grin on his long face. The right-hand picture was of Chara. The artist had given them a smile also but it was a restrained, pensive smile. Their reddish-brown eyes looked downward out of their pale, ruddy-cheeked face, as if deep in reflection. Chara marveled for many long moments at the skill of the portraiture, then they snapped the locket closed. In the brighter light from Asriel’s mage-fire Chara could now see words engraved, in fine lines of flowing script, on the silver lid of the heart-shaped box:  _ Best Friends Forever. _

“Azzy, where did you get this?!”

“I got it from a metalsmith in Snowdin,” Asriel said. “It’s, um, I kind of begged and worked on Mom until she got it done for me. I’m...I’m glad you like it.”

“I just...wow.” Chara blinked. “Nobody’s ever done anything this special for me...I dunno what to say.”

“Want me help you put it on?” Asriel asked, blushing.

“Right now? ...Yeah. Sure! Why not?”

“Okay, hold still.” Chara stood bolt upright as Asriel looped the chain around their foster-sibling’s neck and did up the catch. When Asriel was done he stood face to face with Chara, holding out their arms before them with the offer of a hug. “Best friends forever, Chara?”

Chara reached up to touch the locket resting on their throat, then opened their arms and accepted Asriel’s hug, smiling a great smile that gave way to a peal of delighted laughter. They were soaked to the bone, their clothes were saturated, their hair was plastered to their head, and they didn’t care. Asriel had done it. He had kept his promise: he had taken away Chara’s fear. Joyful tears sprang to Chara’s eyes.

“Best friends forever, Azzy!”

* * *

Chara shook themself back to awareness. They had somehow managed to sit down in the little shower stall, slumped against the tiled walls with their knees up, and doze off under the warm spray.  _ How long have I been out of it? _ Chara asked themselves as they scrambled awkwardly to their feet.  _ I haven’t been sleeping enough, that’s the problem. Close my eyes in a dark room for a second and I pass right out. _ Hastily they shut off the water and and fumbled for a towel, feeling around the dark bathroom till they found one.

Chara dried themself, scooped their fallen clothes from the floor and exited the bathroom.  _ Good,  _ they told themselves after a glance at the clock.  _ I wasn’t asleep that long; Asriel’s not due for another hour.  _ They stood irresolutely in their room for a minute, still unclothed. Semi-consciously they again reached up a hand to their throat, feeling for the absent locket.

_ I wonder where it went,  _ thought Chara sadly.  _ I guess it’s too much to hope for, seeing it again, after all those decades of being dead and buried so far as anyone knew. If it’s gone...does that mean, Asriel, we’re not best friends any more?...and does that mean I need to be afraid again? _

Chara impatiently shook their head to derail the irksome train of thought, then rummaged in their clothes drawer for a clean pair of panties.  _ Get dressed,  _ Chara instructed themself.  _ Brush your hair, brush your teeth, then lie down and try to relax till Frisk calls with the news that they’re on their way back here with Azzy. There’s nothing more I can do until then. Hop to it. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asriel Dreemurr finally makes his appearance in my writing. I've developed a certain interpretation of what Asriel and Chara were like when they were young and the days were still happy, and here I'm putting that interpretation to work for the first time.
> 
> Next chapter I'm at last revealing Asriel has he's become, one of the walking wounded. (But still cute.)
> 
> Now, while in "Where Are Monsters in Dreams" I explicitly pushed Chara's "fall" back by a huge span of time, almost a couple hundred years, for these stories I'm assuming a more recent fall so that I don't have to worry as much about writing Chara's dialogue. If Chara is more or less "modern" (let's say post-WWII) then I can just write in ordinary English instead of having to teach myself to write some antique dialect.


	4. Take Him for All in All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asriel let go of Chara’s shirt, laying his paws tenderly on their friend’s cheeks. Chara shivered again as they felt the soft pressure of Asriel’s warm paw-pads on their skin. “You are real, aren’t you,” Asriel whispered.
> 
> “Yes,” Chara replied. “And I’m gonna get out of this fucking place soon and I’m going to be with you again and together we’ll fight the bullshit in our heads, and we’ll win. And we’ll have Mom to help us, and that gaudy clown over there, too.” Chara jerked their head toward the folding chair, which Frisk had flipped around and settled into, arms folded over its back in their customary pose of carefree indolence. They responded to Chara’s nod with a lopsided grin. “What do you say, Azzy? Is it a deal?”
> 
> Asriel leaned their muzzle forward a little, just enough to press his broad nose against Chara’s. Asriel’s eyes were still wet but they shone with a warm, friendly light. Then he threw his arms around Chara again, all reluctance blown to the winds, fervently embracing his friend, weeping again, but weeping tears of joy. “It's a deal, Chara,” they cried...

The clock read twenty minutes to four when the telephone in Chara’s room rang. Chara started up, woken instantly from their uneasy doze. A beam of sunlight had snuck past the voluminous natal plum bushes that grew outside Chara’s window and through a chink in the aluminum blinds to strike Chara in the face; the much-abused copy of  _ WATCHMEN  _ had slid from their chest and splayed open on the floor. Chara wasted some moments looking around for the cell phone they didn’t own, then fumbled for the room phone’s handset.

“Yeah, talk to me,” Chara grunted into it. 

“Chara? It’s Frisk.” There wasn’t any mistaking the whispery voice of their friend. “I’m ready to head back over with Asriel. Dad’s going to drive us. Are you still up for this?”

Chara twisted their mouth a little at Frisk’s use of “Dad”.  _ I hope I can see  _ **_my_ ** _ dad soon,  _ they told themself,  _ not that wisecracking skeleton who’s boning Mom now.  _ “Yeah, I’m as ready as I’m ever gonna be,” they answered aloud, keeping the sour taste of their thoughts out of their voice.

Frisk heard the sourness anyway. “And, uh, don’t worry about Dad—well, I guess I should say, Sans—getting on your nerves. I’ve instructed him to be on his best behavior around you and anyway he’s gonna stay in the car while I visit with Asriel. I, well, I hope you get to liking him more eventually.”

“Yeah, so do I,” said Chara without enthusiasm.

“You wanna say a few words to Asriel before we leave home? I didn’t want to wake him up just yet but I’m sure he won’t mind. It’s just that he, well, he needs a lot of naps sometimes.”

“Um...uh, no. Just head over. I’ll get to say as many words as I like to him soon enough.”

“All right. Be there soon.” The soft-spoken voice of their friend grew softer. “It’ll be all right, Chara. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Chara made a dismissive sound. “Oh, I’m over that,” they said.

“Are you?” Frisk asked, their voice even gentler now.

“...No, actually I’m terrified. But I’m not going back on my word, not this time.” They paused for a few moments, drawing a few steadying breaths. “Frisk? How did Azzy react? When you told him I was ready to see him?”

“Ecstatic. But scared, too. Chara, I’m pretty sure that Asriel’s just as anxious that he might screw this up as you are. I don’t suppose that’s much consolation, though.”

“You’re right, it’s not.” Chara grabbed one of their pillows and hugged it tightly to their chest, trying to imagine that it was fluffy young Asriel in their embrace and that they were succeeding in turning Asriel’s tears into smiles with some joke or jest or maybe a wildly embellished tale of life on the Surface with those mythical creatures the humans.

“Chara, are you all right?” Frisk asked after a longer than usual silence.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah, just...thinking. Anyway, enough chatting. Don’t stand there on the phone talking to me; tell the comedian it’s time to taxi you and Azzy to the mental institution.”

“Your wish is to me a command, your royal highness,” Frisk solemnly intoned.

“Fff—” Chara flung the pillow down and jumped to their feet. “If you ever address me like that again I’m gonna find out who your pharmacist is and bribe them to fill all your prescriptions with breath mints.”

“No you won’t!” Frisk’s tone was infuriatingly bubbly. “That would be mean. And you’re  _ way _ too much of a sweetheart.”

“Did you just call me  _ sweet _ ?” growled Chara. “Argh! Frisk, what the hell?”

“I’m trying to make you pissed off at me,” explained Frisk.

“What the hell is that supposed to accomplish?”

“Cheering you up, of course! You were kinda sounding like you needed it.”

“You—ugh.” Chara shook their head, bemused. “I should be angry that you’ve got me clocked like that, you know?”

“Sure, I know. I also know you’re smiling right now.”

Chara tried, but failed, to prove Frisk wrong, but they couldn’t erase the smile. “Frisk, just grab Azzy and haul your annoying know-it-all ass over here already, will you?”

“I love you too, Chara.”

“Yeah...that’s true, isn’t it...” Chara sank back down to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “One of these days I might even figure out why.”

“Just chalk it up to me being a lovable weirdo.” Even over the phone Chara could practically hear Frisk’s own smile. “See you in twenty minutes or so, Chara. Bye for now.”

“Bye, Frisk.” Chara carefully replaced the handset and stretched themself out on the bed. They reached for  _ WATCHMEN _ but after a few moments gave up on their futile attempt to distract themself in its pages. Instead Chara lay quietly on the mattress, curled onto their side away from the window, and strove to direct all their attention to the regularity of their own breathing.

The minutes ticked by....

\---

“Uh, hey…”

The strange voice broke into the darkness and emptiness that had engulfed Chara as they fell. It was a small voice, childish in its intonation, quavering a little as if tinged with shyness or fear.

“Can you hear me?” The voice grew louder, as if its owner were coming nearer. “Are you hurt?”

Chara groaned and opened their eyes. Faint, grey light seeped around the edges of their field of vision but otherwise the darkness scarcely lifted. Their hands moved over the surface onto which they had fallen. It was hard and flat, stone perhaps, but their groping fingers also felt loose dirt, cracks and pits, and tufts of grass or weeds. Tentatively Chara planted their hands on either side of their aching head and began to push themself upward but in an instant, with an agonized wince, they dropped themself back down to the ground: stabbing pain had shot through their left arm the moment they had begun to support their weight on it.

“Oh!” The strange voice filled with dismay. “You  _ are  _ hurt!” Chara heard a sniffling sound. Was the owner of the voice...crying? “Oh, no...what should I do? Maybe you shouldn’t try to move. Maybe I can go get Mom, she can fix you up.” Then Chara felt the lightest of touches on their shoulder.

With a sudden effort Chara pushed themself away from the touch with their one good hand, rolling partway onto their left side to face the voice. They were greeted with the sight of an enormous cavern, its full extent invisible in the shadows that surrounded them on all sides. What light there was streamed in through fissures in the craggy roof spread out an unguessable distance over their head. Ranks of stone columns, most of them wound about with climbing and creeping plants, towered over them. And two feet away from them stood a monster.

At least Chara was sure that the creatures whom they had been instructed to call “mother” and “father” would have called this diminutive being a “monster”, or worse. But there was nothing particularly monstrous about this monster, whose soft brown eyes wet with tears were staring at Chara out of a long, white-furred, goat-like face framed on either side with comically large and floppy ears. Fuzzy paws stuck out from the legs of the monster’s brown trousers and from the sleeves of their yellow- and green-striped pullover. Chara had intended to snarl some challenge at the interloper who had dared touch them without permission, but the impulse died the moment they saw the sadness in the monster’s tear-dimmed eyes. Instead, Chara found themself moved to do something they had once thought they would never do again; the corners of their mouth twitched upward into the ghost of a smile.

At this, the monster’s eyes brightened and they smiled in return, revealing the twin points of a pair of stubby fangs. They raised one of their paws in a little wave.

“Howdy,” said the monster, their voice still quiet and a little shaky. “My name is Asriel. Don’t be afraid. Do you have a name?”

Chara opened their mouth but for a few moments no words emerged. Their mind struggled to adapt itself to this astonishing new phenomenon, this crying goat-child-monster who wore sweaters and spoke English, and to devise some adequate explanation for it. They’d fallen a long way and landed hard; possibly they’d hit their head so badly they were now delirious? Or maybe they were unconscious still and dreaming a remarkably solid-feeling dream.

Or maybe their “father” and their “mother” had actually been right about something for once, and Chara was now dead and in Hell, and the goatish creature before them was one of Satan’s minions.

For a moment Chara felt a stab of horror. They had been schooled often and schooled forcibly in the theology of damnation, and despite Chara’s defiance the schooling had left its mark; Hell was, to Chara’s shame, still something they secretly feared. But, as they regarded the little goat-child in their stripey jumper and studied the monster’s beaming countenance and brown eyes aglow with the light of friendship, Chara’s fear dwindled from a terrifying nemesis into a mere annoyance. Was  _ this  _ all that his ersatz parents had succeeded in teaching them? Here right in front of them was a marvel that Chara had never dreamed of, yet they were wasting time and thought on programmed-in fears of demons and devils?

_ And if this  _ **_is_ ** _ Hell _ , thought Chara,  _ I’ll take it in a moment over Heaven. _ Their tentative smile grew warmer and broader.

“Hi, Asriel,” they finally replied. “I’m really glad to meet you. My name is—” Then they halted, again temporarily wordless.

They had been on the point, out of sheer ingrained habit, of quoting to Asriel the name that their “mother” and “father” had taught them to call themself when asked. But that was not  _ their  _ name. How could a name assigned arbitrarily at birth possibly hope to be an appropriate and meaningful fit for who they were now? Not that their “parents” had accepted this reasoning, when their child had dared to bring it up. “Father”, in particular, had been predictably harsh in his reaction...

They had chosen a fitting name for themself anyway, a chance discovery in a textbook on biology. They didn’t know if the name had any special meaning aside from being the name of a particular genus of green algae. But they knew they liked the sound of the name on their tongue when they whispered it to themself, liked the slightly alien flavor of the name, liked how it felt neither a masculine nor a feminine name nor even a human name at all. And, most importantly, the name wasn’t just another of the many things that their “mother” or their “father” had insisted on cramming into their child’s head. The name was, in fact, one of the very first things they could think of as being truly their own.

“Um, you okay?” asked Asriel diffidently. “You never finished saying what your name was…”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry. Anyway, Asriel, my name is—”

\---

“Chara?” asked a voice.

At the sound of their name Chara snapped their eyes open.  _ Oh, no, did I doze off  _ **_again_ ** _?  _ Chara asked themself.  _ I  _ **_really_ ** _ need to do something about my sleep schedule. _

“Chara?” the voice asked once more. It was a soft, hesitant voice, not one that Chara immediately recognized, but it carried with its halting words a nagging sense of familiarity. “Sorry to, um, to wake you but, um, Frisk said it’d, um, it’d be okay.” Then Chara felt the lightest of touches on their shoulder.

Chara whipped themself round to confront the owner of the voice. It was a monster with a long, white-furred, goat-like face framed on either side with comically large and floppy ears. The monster’s soft brown eyes, clouded with fear and apprehension, opened wide when they saw Chara turn and face him. The monster looked straight into Chara’s reddish eyes.

“Chara...is it  _ really _ you?” he asked.

Chara stared. The monster who sat hunched over in the folding chair by the side of the bed, with Frisk standing at his back and resting one hand lightly on his shoulder, was far taller than Chara remembered. The softness and bloom of youth had gone from the monster’s face; there was a hollowness to his cheeks and a tiredness in his eyes that suggested the enfeeblement of age or the debilitation of illness. He rocked back and forth nervously in his seat, convulsively grasping a knee in one of his paws, continually tapping a digit up and down; his other paw tugged absently at a loose strand of wool from his green-and-yellow sweater.  _ He looks so...worn out, _ Chara said to themself, feeling a cold, hard knot of fear settle in their chest. But as they watched the monster and studied his face, Chara saw the beginning of a familiar glow kindled in the monster’s brown eyes. Their fear lessened, and they began to feel something that was almost like hope.

“...Azzy?” Chara finally said.

Asriel let go their knee and raised their paw— _ how much longer his digits are now!  _ thought Chara—in a little wave. He smiled the slightest of smiles, just baring the tips of his incisors.  _ Longer too,  _ Chara observed. “Howdy,” Asriel said, in a small voice trembling with emotion.

Chara launched themself from the bed and grabbed both of Asriel’s paws, yanking him forcibly from the chair with an astonished bleat and pulling him down to the bed with them. They wrapped their arms tightly around their friend and buried their face in his chest. “Azzy, I missed you, I missed you!” Chara cried, over and over. Tears were streaming from their eyes and soaking into Asriel’s jumper but Chara took no heed. “Don’t you dare leave me alone again, you big dummy, don’t ever leave my sight…”

“I, um, I thought that maybe you, um, maybe you wanted me to leave you alone,” whispered Asriel. Though he was striving to keep his voice level Chara could feel the monster’s body shaking in their embrace, could feel how close their friend was to breaking down. “Frisk kept, um, kept telling me you weren’t, um, ready to see me. I, um, I thought maybe it was, um...my fault.” Slowly, with painful timidity, Asriel put their arms around their foster-sibling. Chara shivered a little as they felt the warmth of Asriel’s paws resting lightly on their back. “Gosh, um, Chara, you feel so real.”

“I  _ am _ real, silly!” Chara squeezed Asriel’s body tightly in their embrace.  _ He’s so warm and soft, still,  _ Chara told themself in wonderment. “And it  _ wasn’t _ your fault, Azzy, none of it was ever your fault, it was all mine, I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Asriel stared past Chara, eyes looking glassily ahead of him. “I didn’t kill you?”

“What?” Chara exclaimed. “Do I look or feel like I’ve been killed?”

“The dreams. The voices in my head.” Asriel’s paws continued their ultracautious survey of Chara’s back, gingerly petting them here and there as though he thought Chara might vanish any moment. “Every, um, every day, after Frisk came, um, to save me, the voices would, um, they’d, um, they’d tell me I’d, um, murdered you.” Asriel’s body and his voice were shaking uncontrollably now. “Every night, um, the dreams would, um, I’d be, um, I’d see you again, um, only I wasn’t, um, I’d still be Flowey, um, and, um, I’d reach out for you and, um…” Asriel’s voice finally broke, his faltering words turning into wrenching sobs. His head sagged against Chara’s shoulder, his paws clutched at the back of Chara’s shirt, and he wept.

“Azzy. Listen to me.” Chara raised their head, took Asriel’s head gently in both their hands, and guided his muzzle upward until his snout was an inch away from Chara’s nose. “Look at me and listen. None of that happened, do you hear me? You don’t have to believe those voices or those dreams any more. It wasn’t  _ real _ .”

“It felt so real,” Asriel whimpered.

“I know, Azzy, I know. My fucked-up brain’s been feeding me lies like that, too. But you know what? I don’t have to believe them. You don’t have to believe the lies either, Azzy. Believe  _ me. _ Don’t I feel realer than any dream?”

Asriel let go of Chara’s shirt, laying his paws tenderly on their friend’s cheeks. Chara shivered again as they felt the soft pressure of Asriel’s warm paw-pads on their skin. “You  _ are _ real, aren’t you,” Asriel whispered.

“Yes,” Chara replied. “And I’m gonna get out of this fucking place soon and I’m going to be with you again and together we’ll fight the bullshit in our heads, and we’ll win. And we’ll have Mom to help us, and that gaudy clown over there, too.” Chara jerked their head toward the folding chair, which Frisk had flipped around and settled into, arms folded over its back in their customary pose of carefree indolence. They responded to Chara’s nod with a lopsided grin. “What do you say, Azzy? Is it a deal?”

Asriel leaned their muzzle forward a little, just enough to press his broad nose against Chara’s. Asriel’s eyes were still wet but they shone with a warm, friendly light. Then he threw his arms around Chara again, all reluctance blown to the winds, fervently embracing his friend, weeping again, but weeping tears of joy. “It's a deal, Chara,” they cried, words tumbling freely out of them. “It really is you, I haven't lost you, I don't know what I would have done if Frisk hadn't been able to bring you back!”

“Let's not dwell on it, huh? You came here to  _ visit,  _ not just to water my T-shirt with your tears.”

“Oh. Um. Sorry,” Asriel replied, pulling away a little and looking around the room for a box of tissues. “I really am a crybaby, aren't I…”

“Hush. You can water my shirt as often and as much as you like.”

Asriel accepted the wad of Kleenex that Frisk wordlessly held to him and noisily blew his long nose. “Thanks, Frisk…anyway, um, Chara, do you have anything in mind you, um, anything you want to do?”

“I’d love some decent food for a change.” Chara looked over Asriel's shoulder at Frisk, who was idly slumped over the back of the chair and tapping on their phone. “Frisk, you think my keepers will let me out for a couple hours so we can go to a real eatery?”

“Oh, I'm sure they will,” Frisk replied. “I think they'll insist that Dad supervise though, since he's the only one of us who qualifies as a responsible adult.”

“Pfft,” Chara scoffed. ‘Responsible’? That joke-shop refugee? But if it means the freedom to sit down in a proper restaurant with Azzy at my side I'll put up even with him.”

“Aw, Chara, you shouldn't, um, you shouldn't talk that way, um, about Sans,” said Asriel. “He’s been really, um, kind and patient with me, and Mom, um, well, Mom loves him a lot.”

“Right, fine. I'll be nice to Sans. For  _ you _ , Azzy. If it were just Frisk asking I'm not sure I’d bother.”

Frisk giggled. “Chara is  _ such _ an angel, aren't they, Asriel?”

“Yes,” Asriel replied, draping his arms over Chara's shoulders and gazing into their eyes.

“Ugh, you're just sickening, the  _ both  _ of you,” Chara grumbled. They gave Asriel a final hug and nose-nuzzle, then got to their feet and stretched their gangly limbs. “Okay, let's get out of this room and fetch Sans to sign for me.”

“Um, one more thing,” said Asriel diffidently. He scrambled to his feet and jammed a paw into his right trouser pocket. “There's something, um, I've been keeping safe. Frisk, um, gave it to me after they, um, they rescued me and brought me, um, back to the Surface. I’ve, um, I've been hoping all this time I’d be, um, I’ve been hoping a day would come when, um, when I’d be able to do this.” Asriel withdrew from his pocket a gleaming metal object, jingling faintly on a fine chain, and he held it out for Chara to take. “I, um, I hope you like it.”

“Is that—is that—“ They seized up the silvery thing from Asriel's paw and cradled it in their palm. “It's my locket! Is it a replica? No, it's the same one, it's got to be!” They turned it over in their hand, inspecting the heart-shaped pendant. It bore some signs of hard treatment; there were patches of tarnish and scratches marring the once-pristine silver and one of the lobes of the heart bore a small dent. But on its front were the flowing letters that Chara had come to love so well, the engraved letters that read,  _ Best Friends Forever. _

Chara turned their blazing red eyes accusingly on Frisk. “You told me you’d lost this in a fight years ago!”

“I did!” Frisk protested. “But when I went back to the Underground with the hope of saving Asriel, I decided I’d try to find the locket again. I didn't think there was much of a chance but, well, you know what a lucky bastard I am.” Frisk chuckled, but their expression was solemn. “I gave it to Asriel after I saved him. I had hoped…well, he was having so much trouble at first, I hoped he’d find some comfort in it. As a memento.”

“I did,” said Asriel. “But really, um…all the while, I’ve dreamed I could, um, return it. To its, um, its rightful owner.”

Chara flicked the locket open. The exterior may have been scratched and dulled but, inside, the tiny enameled portraits of the young monster and his young human friend were as bright and colorful as they ever were. Chara smiled. “We both look a bit different now, don't we, Azzy?”

Asriel giggled. “I guess we could find an artisan to fix it up and redo the portraits.”

“Hell no! I want this just the way it is. Tarnish, dings, kiddie portraits and all.” Chara held the locket out toward Asriel, dangling it on its chain. “Azzy, will you do me the honor?”

Asriel blushed. “I’d, um, I’d love to.” Chara held themself motionless as Asriel reached around their neck with tremulous paws. As the monster fumbled with the catch they accidentally brushed claws against the bare skin of Chara's neck; the human only barely suppressed an audible gasp. Meanwhile Frisk surveyed the operation from the folding chair, their placid face bearing an enigmatic smile.

“There,” Asriel said at last, stepping away from his friend.

Chara reached up slender fingers to touch the locket at their throat. “Thank you, Azzy.” From their chair, Frisk patted their hands together in muted applause. 

“What're  _ you _ smiling at?” Chara demanded. 

Frisk's smile became a grin. “Chara, you’ve seen for yourself how much I enjoy helping couples in love.”

Asriel gasped, their jaw and their eyes dropping wide open in utter shock. Chara groaned and glared at the grinning human. “Aaagh! Frisk, what is  _ with _ you? Look, you’ve embarrassed Azzy.” Asriel did indeed, look mortified, bowing his head and holding his paws over his face. “We’re practically brothers, Frisk! I know you're a weirdo but you don't have to be  _ that _ weird!”

“You're not actually  _ related. _ What's weird about it?”

“Look—just—” Chara's ruddy cheeks grew even redder and they sputtered incoherently for a few moments before giving up. “Ugh, I'm changing the subject. To Be Continued, Frisk. I'm not forgetting this…incident.”

“Whatever you say, Chara!” Frisk replied, using their cane to push their way up from their seat with an energetic bound. “Now, shall we go?”

“We shall. Lead the way. I want you between me and the entertainer at all times anyway.”

“Sure thing. I’ll go fetch Dad. Meet us at the front desk!” Frisk ambled to the door of Chara's room and exited in a swirl of green fabric. Chara themself, however, lingered for a minute, standing close to Asriel, who had recovered sufficiently from their discomfiture to meet Chara's inquiring glance. 

“You okay, Azzy?” Chara asked.

“Um, yeah. Just, um, a little surprised.” Asriel managed a sheepish smile.

“You know how many months I had to spend trapped in that court jester’s head? It was a  _ long _ slog, Azzy, let me tell you.”

“Yeah.” Asriel gave Chara a curious look. “It, um, it must have been kind of fun.”

Chara perused Asriel's thoughtful face. “You know what, Azzy? You're right. It was.”

“Let's go join them.” Without hesitation Asriel reached for Chara's hand, interlacing his paw’s digits with Chara's fingers. Chara looked sharply at their foster-brother but did not make any move to disengage themself from Asriel's grasp. 

“You sure about this, Azzy?” Chara asked. “We’re not kids anymore growing up among friendly monsters. We’re with humans now, and humans love to be assholes.” They tugged lightly on Asriel's arm. “We’re gonna get weird looks for  _ this,  _ I'll warn you right now.”

Asriel smiled. “I don't care.”

“People other than Frisk really  _ are  _ gonna think we're a ‘loving couple’.”

Asriel blushed again. “Um. Well, I'm, um, I'm okay with that.”

“Really!” Chara squeezed Asriel's paw. “You surprise me, Azzy. I guess you have changed. Maybe a lot.”

“Um…maybe? But, um, one thing hasn't changed, Chara.” Asriel started for the door, Chara following at his side. “One thing will never change.”

At the door Chara paused and faced Asriel. “What's that?”

“You’ll, um…Chara, I promise you, you’ll always be my best friend forever.”

Chara's face glowed. Their free hand reached up again to caress their locket. “Best friends forever,” they affirmed. “Let's go.”

Hand in paw, Chara and Asriel left the room and shut the door behind them.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after an all-nighter and then a desperate attempt to find working Internet in the middle of a Phish show, "More than Kin, Less than Kind" is done! I hope it satisfies. And yes, I'm having my Chara name themselves for a green alga.


End file.
